


(We're Not the Same) That's What Makes it Perfect

by ajremix



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-New 52, References to Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:57:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: It can be a complicated business, heroes dating their rogues.ColdWave Week Day 1: Opposites Attract





	(We're Not the Same) That's What Makes it Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> ColdWave Week? More like ColdWave-featuring-titles-from-whatever-song-AJ-is-listening-to-because-they-can’t-think-up-titles-on-their-own Week. Title from Seal’s Every Time I’m With You. Playing very loosely with pre-52 comics timeline and lots of references to said comics.

In part due to a somewhat limited skill set and mostly by having spent a number of years using that same skill set to be a crook before switching sides, Cold was regulated to the lower tier heros. Which was fine by him. He didn’t care much for tangling with near-gods and cross-dimensional beings and the like. Didn’t mean he hadn’t dealt with them on occasion but he much preferred street-level crooks and organized crime to all of that. He and his sister had gotten quite good at it over the years. Even had some team-ups with other ground level heroes like Question and Argus, though the less said about that job with Detective Chimp, the better.  
  
Which was why he was surprised to get a call from Cadmus.  
  
Despite having developed and built his cold gun- and the knowledge to utilize it to its full extent -Cold didn’t know much about science. Nor did he have any kind of connection to Supers, even a tangential one like Superboy.  
  
But he supposed he should at least see what they wanted and answered it.   
  
His initial thought upon seeing the gold helmet was Dr. Fate before the name Guardian came to him. As far as Cold knew, Guardian really didn’t leave Cadmus and there surely were other ice wielders closer to Hawaii than him. “You need something?” Cold asked, not bothering to hide reticence.  
  
“/You seem to have misplaced one of your Rogues,/” Harper said wryly. Cold blinked behind his visor. His rogues gallery wasn’t what one would call extensive and, in all honesty, most of what he had tended to be shared with Wally across the river in Central. “/Heatwave’s been showing up sporadically for almost two weeks now. None of us have been able to figure what he’s after, so I figured I should call you, see if you might have an idea./”  
  
Cold just barely held himself back from saying Heatwave’s name. His  _actual_  name. The name Cold hadn’t found out through arrest records but because Heatwave had told him with a grin that melted something in Cold’s bones just before slipping away. Fixing a scowl firmly in place, Cold said, “It’s not like I’ve got access to his day planner.”  
  
“/Considering no one in Cadmus has dealt with him before, I was  _hoping_  you’d give some insight as to his goals and general operation./”  
  
“He’s not a serial killer or anything. Probably just looking to steal something. Probably got hired by someone to do it.”  
  
Harper tried to hide his frustrated frown behind stoic professionalism. “/He’s been making himself rather visible and he’s known for working with others. Have you seen any of the other Rogues recently?/”  
  
“Yeah, they’re all accounted for.” Mostly. At least he knew the ones that had been in jail were still there. Who knew about that others. “Look, you’ll just have to figure out what he wants for yourself. That’s part of the heroing gig, ain’t it?” Harper started protesting but Cold just cut him off with, “Cold out,” before closing the line.  
  
He slouched in his seat for some time after, glaring at the blank screen. He’d been wondering why he hadn’t seen Mick around. He hadn’t called, hadn’t picked up Cold’s calls, hadn’t even left a note. And all the way in Hawaii? Something had to be up since, with McCulloch still locked up, Mick would’ve had to find other means of travel other than commercial.  
  
But what got Cold the most was that he hadn’t known about it. It wasn’t like he and Mick were connected at the hip- usually -but Mick always let him know when he was going out of state for extended periods of time. Not because Cold worried he just… liked knowing those kinds of things.  
  
“Whatever,” he eventually said to no one. “He’ll be back sooner or later.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_Cold may not be a speedster or be able to fly but his ice bridges still got him around pretty quickly and often times through means most criminals weren’t expecting. This particular crook, he saw as he came in through one of the upper windows of the bank, was bent over a number of lock boxes that had been melted open, tossing the contents into a bag. Cold groaned quietly to himself over the fact that an ass that fine was being wasted on crime.  
  
“Hands up,” he said, as if he weren’t admiring the flattering fit of a… he wasn’t entirely sure, actually. It was some sort of costume. “Play it cool until the cops get here and I won’t have to put you on ice.”  
  
The man- judging from the strong back and broad shoulders though considering he’d also met Barda Free, those really weren’t sure fire indicators -turned just enough to give Cold a sidelong look. “Captain Cold.” The voice was slightly muffled from some kind of respirator but was definitely a man’s.  
  
“Good guess,” he said sarcastically, “considering you’re robbing banks in my town.”  
  
The man sighed, turning around. Cold noted something like cables or hoses that attached from whatever was on the man’s back to some wrist mounted device and a gun holstered at his chest. “This is a disappointment.”  
  
“Yeah, getting busted usually is.”  
  
“I mean _ you _,” he said, tone conversational but bored. “Giving up your freedom to be a lapdog for a bunch of capes.”  
  
He heard sirens and tires screeching. Good, they were right on time. “Buddy, if you knew anything about me you’d know the amount I care about your opinion is in the negatives.”  
  
The man huffed, eyes crinkling behind his goggles. “I do know one thing: you ain’t hot shit.”  
  
The man’s arm dropped, shooting something from his wrist but Cold was prepared, firing off a wide cold beam. Instead of freezing, losing momentum and dropping to the ground like he was expecting, though, a foam-like substance- regular fire suppression foam, he’d find out later -splattered against him, blinding him long enough for the man to run by. Instead of taking the time to wipe the foam off, Cold just pulled off his visor, just in time to see the man use his gun to send a jet of fire toward the ceiling, setting off the sprinklers, then turning that flamethrower toward the oncoming police in a wide, sweeping motion. More to get them out of his way than to hurt them.  
  
Firing a cold beam into the water ran the risk of injuring the officers with countless dagger-sharp icicles and Cold struggled with his childhood distaste for the police before he pointed his gun away and gave chase, cursing all the way. There was an explosion when he reached the doors that knocked him off his feet. One of the police cruiser engines was on fire, its bonnet rocking on the ground some twenty feet away. By the time Cold got back on his feet and bridged himself high enough to look over the gathering crowd, the man was gone._  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Lisa was standing in the doorway, tapping her foot in irritation. “What?” Cold asked, bristling slightly. Not because she was annoyed at him but because he already knew what she was annoyed by and very much did not want to get into that conversation with her.  
  
“You’re being dumb,” she said simply.  
  
“About what?”  
  
“About the fact that Mick is in Hawaii.”  
  
“Is he? Didn’t know.” Cold wasn’t particularly good at lying, especially to Lisa, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.  
  
“Right. You just asked Linda if she heard of any supervillain activity going on in Hawaii where he just so happens to be right now.” She tilted her head to the side, hair slipping over her shoulder. “You haven’t been looking at your phone.”  
  
“I often don’t look at my phone. I’m not like Walker.”  
  
“It’s the  _way_  you haven’t been looking at it.” Cold shot her a look and Lisa rolled her eyes. “You’ve been looking like you want to pick it up but then force yourself not to. You’re very deliberately not looking at your phone.” She pressed her lips together, expression turning vaguely sympathetic. “Did you two get into another fight?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Cold said bitterly. Then, before he could stop himself, “That’s the entire damn problem! He’s giving me the cold shoulder and I don’t know why!” He jabbed a finger in Lisa’s direction. “Shut up, not every cold-related turn of phrase is a goddamn pun.”  
  
Deciding to be lenient, Lisa didn’t press her brother to put a coin in the pun jar- only applicable outside of superhero fights, she wasn’t a monster after all. “Have you thought of going to see him?”  
  
“Why?” He crossed his arms, slouching down and pretending to be enthralled in whatever was on the television. “He’ll be back whenever he’s done doing whatever he’s doing.”  
  
“Are you sure? Because he’s been there for three weeks now and no one’s heard of any activity on any of the islands.” She came over quietly, rubbing her hand over Cold’s shoulder. “Lenny, if he’s really mad enough to drop all contact with you for close to a month, he might not come back on his own.”  
  
Cold just sank down further until he was out from under Lisa’s touch. “Not my problem if he doesn’t want to talk about it.”  
  
She snorted at that. “Right. Because you’re so good about talking about feelings.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_Ever since Heatwave came onto the scene the fans and groupies very quickly pegged him as Cold’s rival, perfect opposites in all things, their fights talked about like some championship bout. Honestly Cold found it all rather annoying. On the other hand he had to agree that whenever he and Heatwave went head to head, it was pretty even odds for who would come out the victor. In just about every aspect they were either fairly equal or perfect opposites so that every strength was negated. The only real edge Cold had over Heatwave was the fact that he had Lisa on his side.  
  
Which, seeing as she was dodging boomerangs while Cold was fighting fire, looked like that may no longer be the case.  
  
Cold and Heatwave crashed across the office lobby, both using their weapons sparingly to keep the building from coming down on top of them- or their partners, wherever they may be. Didn’t stop the lobby from being filled with steam, ice patches and scorch marks peppering the place. Most people, due to the cold gun being a ranged or area of effect weapon depending on how Cold used it, didn’t think he was a capable hand to hand fighter. Sure, he wouldn’t be much of a warm up for any of the Birds of Prey but against someone that didn’t have ‘master martial artist’ in their wheelhouse, he was no pushover. Unfortunately the same could be said about Heatwave. Heatwave was the bigger of the two in terms of breadth and weight and he hit with the force of a sledgehammer. Cold, on the other hand, had maneuverability and endurance on his side. As they grappled together, Cold had no idea who would come out on top until the fight was over.  
  
They slammed into a wall, each with a grip on the other’s wrist that held their weapon of choice. With his options limited, Heatwave pressed against Cold’s chest, seemingly intent on crushing him between the wall and his own body.  
  
Despite the strain, Heatwave’s lips pulled back into a grin. “So much for stopping me cold.”  
  
Cold didn’t even try to keep from grinning back. “Not like you’re too hot for me to handle.”  
  
If he were honest, he liked fighting Heatwave most out of his Rogues if not just for the fact that the man would actually banter with him. Weather Wizard’s preference for storms made talking difficult, Kadabra was too pompous for Cold’s patience never minding the fact he was too dangerous to humor, the combination of Boomerang’s accent and colloquialisms made him difficult to understand and the new Mirror Master was even worse. The only other ones he could trade quips with were Trickster, who straddled the line between entertaining and annoying, and Piper, who was trying to go straight-ish.  
  
And, no matter how hard Lisa tried to convince him that puns were neither funny nor cool- he was convinced she was just jealous because her gimmick didn’t give her as many opportunities -Cold _ loved _them. He grew up reading his grandfather’s pulp magazines, puns and wordplay were what people did back then. So he felt pretty justified in tossing them right back whenever Heatwave threw one out.  
  
“I dunno. The last two time we clashed, I managed to get away. Seems to me like I’m on a hot streak.”  
  
“We’ll see how you feel when you’re cooling your heels in Iron Heights again.”  
  
Heatwave’s grin grew into an outright smile and Cold had to slide his gaze away. Heatwave was unfairly hot and that wasn’t just for the pun. He was attractive and fun to banter with and was thoughtful and considerate on the rare occasions they actually had a conversation. It wasn’t at all helped that Cold had very few friends in or out of the hero business and even less opportunities to get as close to someone as he currently was with Heatwave. If he didn’t get out of this quick, Cold was going to be in a trouble other than mortal peril.  
  
Gathering his strength, Cold heaved, trying to find some kind of leverage and-  
  
-his foot slid back, letting his legs fall open a little wider and-  
  
-Heatwave reflexively moved into that space, pressing Cold harder into the wall and-  
  
Suddenly they were hip to hip, pressed tightly against each other and Cold’s breath caught in his throat and Heatwave growled low enough it reverberated through Cold’s body and suddenly all that tension just spilled over. Suddenly they were pressed flush together, panting against each other’s mouths, and one of Cold’s hands was wrapped around Heatwave’s back pulling him in tighter. He didn’t know how long they were like that, rutting mindlessly against each other but he didn’t want it to stop. This was- fuck, he’d been _ dreaming _about this, as much as he wanted to deny it. It was perfect. It was beautiful. Cold let out a shaky, guttural moan and Heatwave answered in kind. Then, just as suddenly as it began, Heatwave pulled away, eyes wide and mortified. Before Cold could do anything, Heatwave pulled back a fist and clocked him across the face.  
  
He’d been hit harder in his life- he’d been hit harder by Heatwave -but the suddenness of it caught him off guard and Cold hit the ground hard.  
  
“Fuck, oh god.” Heatwave stumbled back a step or two, hesitating between running and staying. “Shit, that wasn’t- it isn’t because- I didn’t- I really like-” he scrubbed a hand over his head. _ “Fuck _!”  
  
“Hey!” Cold recognized Lisa’s voice in a daze.  
  
“Crap. Uh, sorry. Just… sorry.” Heatwave sighed and just before he put up a wall of fire Cold heard him mutter, “Dammit, why did it have to happen like _ this _?”  
  
The curtain went up thick and hot, far enough that Cold wasn’t in any danger from it but he could still feel the heat of it. The cold discs Cold had put in Lisa’s gloves, while powerful enough to make ice bridges so she wasn’t dependent on her brother to get around, wasn’t near strong enough to take on Heatwave’s flame so she slid to a halt next to Cold. Distantly he wondered how mad Rory would be when he remembered he left the loot behind. “Lenny, are you okay? What the hell happened?”  
  
Cold got himself on an elbow, rubbing a hand over his tender jaw. “I think he likes me,” he slurred._  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Cold didn’t normally work outside of Keystone, not even Central unless he was asked to help first. He figured it was only fair given he didn’t like when other heroes popped over into his city unannounced, either. So when he saw the thick plumes of smoke rising up from across the river, he turned on the police scanner just to see if it was something he should consider intervening on. The voices over the radio confirmed it was a meta fight and that Flash was engaged and Cold decided to join in because… because… well, he didn’t have an excuse yet but he would before Lisa asked him. He'd rather not have the Captain "No Chill" Cold nickname reemerging again.  
  
As useful for getting around as his ice bridges were, it was too far a distance to get there in a reasonable amount of time. So instead, Cold went to a storage closet and opened up a false panel in the floor. There was a locked box in there, keyed to his and Lisa’s genetic signature. From the box he pulled out a dusty mirror gun, one he snagged from lock-up during Scudder’s time, back when everyone- including himself -still considered Cold more thief than hero. Despite having it in his possession Cold only used it in dire emergency, not wanting to accidentally run into someone in the mirror world. If the Rogues knew he had it, they’d either try to steal it back or find a way to lock him out.  
  
It took Cold some time to find a reflective surface in the correct area and when he stepped through, he created an ice bridge so he could get an aerial view without getting in range of the battle. The first thing he thought once he got up there was that things were a mess. There were fires, ice patches, low lying storm clouds and a couple whirlwinds trying to trap a streak of lightning. It wasn’t difficult to spot Mardon in it all given it was the one calm spot in a chaotic area and that the weather wand glowed. Cold looked around, trying to spot Mick before he realized… Mardon was the only Rogue there.  
  
He’d thought- he’d  _hoped_ \- but it was just Mardon.  
  
Jaw clenching so tightly his teeth creaked, Cold shot out another ice bridge, angle steep so when he slid down it, barreling into Mardon from behind, it was like being hit by a freight train. From the force with which he hit the ground, Mardon was knocked out and Cold roughly cuffed him. The only reason he did that rather than beat the unconscious man to work out his anger and frustration was the fact that he probably wouldn’t be able to stop once he started.  
  
Lightning continued to zip around, taking care of the whirlwinds and larger fires and spiriting the wand away before Wally came to a stop before Cold. “Well, thanks, I guess.” He said, hands on his hip and head tilted slightly, utterly bewildered. “Uh, why exactly did you decide to help?”  
  
“Got bored,” he snapped.  
  
“You got bored so you decided to cannonball Mardon from fifteen stories up? That’s more Glider’s style of reckless than yours.”  
  
“Working on a new aggression therapy technique.”  
  
“Yeah, I know for a fact J’onn already talked to you about taking your aggression out on criminals.” At Cold’s feet, Mardon groaned painfully and Wally’s cowl twitched in that way it did when his eyebrows jumped. “Expected him to be out longer, I’m impressed. But seriously, Cold- I know how you feel about people butting into other people’s fights.”  
  
“So I’m a hypocrite, what a surprise.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Unconvinced, Wally’s eyes wandered around the city, as if that might offer up some insight. There were a couple groups of firefighters taking care of straggling flames that weren't dangerous enough for Wally's immediate attention. His head swiveled back to Cold. “Wait, has Heatwave not come back yet?”  
  
Cold bristled, a scathing retort ready but was derailed when Mardon, still a little groggy, blurted out with wide eyes, “ _Still_?”  
  
Cold didn’t even make it half a step closer before Wally was there, hand lightly blocking his way. “The hell do you know about this?”  
  
Mardon scoffed. “He’s a difficult guy to piss off. If you’ve managed to do that, you really must’ve crossed the line. Even taking into account how many times you two have broken up and got back together over the years.” At the  _look_  Cold gave him, Mardon just said with a kind of importance that was at odds with his current situation, “Yeah, we noticed. We just don’t make a big deal out of it because Mick’s one of ours. We know he has our backs.”  
  
When Cold went into a full-on growl, Wally said, “Okay, you know what?” In an instant he was gone and back, sweeping Mardon away in a whirl of lightning. “Don’t feel like dealing with that right now.”  
  
“You jacked another pen from CCPD.”  
  
“What?” Wally looked down to see a pen, still smoking slightly from speed-completing Mardon’s processing forms, in his hand. “Dammit.” Again he was gone and back, this time sans pen. “Every time.” Brushing that off, Wally stood next to Cold and said lowly, “Look, Snart-”  
  
A sharply jabbed finger to the chest cut him off. “Hell no. I am  _not_  getting relationship advice from the mouthy brat I’ve watched crash and burn 90% of the relationships he’s been in since he was a teenager.”  
  
Wally didn’t look nearly as bothered by that as Cold had hoped which meant that wasn’t enough to derail the conversation. “Then take it as advice from someone that doesn’t want to see their friend crash and burn the same ways they have.” Cold ignored the way his gut twisted, not entirely unpleasantly, at the fact Wally apparently considered him a friend. “I may not know Heatwave as well as you, but he’s always been the steadfast type. If he left, he did it for a reason that’s important to him and you’re not going to find out unless you  _talk_  to him. And even if he ends it, as cruel as it may sound, it’s better that you know. It’s better than you waiting, hoping he comes back.”  
  
Cold laughed bitterly, stomping over to a reflective surface and pulling out the mirror gun again. “You say that like I’m expecting him to come back.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_In hindsight, Cold supposed he should’ve left this new Dark Flash to the other speedsters to deal with. Not that he’d actually gone out looking for the guy, but he’d been running patrols through both Central and Keystone and after how badly he beat down on Boomerang, Cold wasn’t about to let the guy stomp around his city like he owned the place.  
  
So instead Cold was the one getting stomped on. Thankfully Lisa was out on some cruise with Fire, Jade and Argent. When she got back to find he’d picked a fight with a speedster on his own, whatever pieces Dark Flash left behind, she was going to crush underfoot.  
  
Sure, it had been years since he’d fought against one- not since Barry -but he shouldn’t have been _ this _out of practice. The guy was everywhere at once and barely seemed bothered by even an absolute zero field by stealing the speed from nearby objects. Didn’t help that the guy seemed to have a real hate-on for him, either, barely gave Cold time to catch his breath between passes.  
  
A streak of dark red and silver lightning barreled straight at him and Cold braced himself, too disoriented from the last blow to move-  
  
The world erupted into light and heat and hands were grabbing him, forcibly dragging Cold away. When he was able to see again, Cold thought he saw a figure, transparent save for a gleam where the light hit and tendrils of orange energy coiling around its insides.  
  
“Cold? Jesus- are you alright?”  
  
“Mick?” Cold gasped. Wait- his eyes hadn’t cleared up entirely, he couldn’t see who else was around. “Heatwave? What’re you doing here?”  
  
“Saving your hide apparently.” Rory said, his hands strong and firm on Cold’s arms. They were in a pitch black space save for random rectangles that spilled out light. The mirror world. Cold had been stuffed in them enough times to know it in an instant. “What the hell did you do to piss that guy off?”  
  
“I dunno. Stole his lunch money in high school or I guess.” Cold eventually got his feet under him again, walking on his own though he didn’t move away from Rory. He wiped some blood from his face and gently probed his tongue around his mouth to figure out where that blood was coming from. Didn’t feel like any teeth were missing, must have cut the inside of his cheek. “Guy refused to believe I’m a hero for some reason.”  
  
Rory snorted. “Been there.”  
  
They walked in silence for a bit until they found a mirror a good distance away from where Cold had been tangling with the Dark Flash. They stepped out of the mirror world and Cold finally asked, “Who the hell was that?”  
  
“Replicant.”  
  
“_ Who _?”  
  
“He’s, uh, new.” Rory looked a little sheepish. “It’s not like I can tell you who he _ actually _is other than a Rogue. And Rogues look after our own.”  
  
So he was out for blood on Boomerang’s behalf. Cold could respect that. If the Rogues had been around before Cold switched sides, he might have chosen differently. “So why’d you guys save me?”  
  
“I don’t like people touching you.” Cold gave him a _ look _and privately enjoyed the way Rory turned red. “Your_ our _hero, alright? Some… random jackass can’t just come along and hurt you.”  
  
“Careful, Rory,” Cold said with amusement. “I might think you care.”  
  
Rory hesitated. His mouth suddenly crooked into rakish but nervous grin. “Ah hell. I’m a thief and I’m a selfish bastard, so.” He gripped Cold by the hood, pulling him into a rough kiss, their respective eye protection clattering against each other.  
  
It was quick and sloppy and Cold was momentarily stunned when Rory let him pull back. The grin was just a faded, barely there thing on Rory’s face. Hell, it looked more like he was about to be ill and Cold realized he was probably waiting for him to say something.  
  
Cold put on a scowl- not an actual one but the pretend scowl, the one he used when trying to take in Rory, no heat behind it, just a mask and it made Rory’s grin return just a bit. “Just ‘cause you saved me doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you go after stealing a kiss.”  
  
The grin turned into a full blown smile. Rory backed away and Cold let him. “Look forward to seeing what kind of payback’ll be in store.” Rory winked, turned and walked off.  
  
Not the most impressive exit but Cold enjoyed the view until Rory tucked around a corner. Then he grabbed the sides of his hood, pulling it forward as he turned and braced his head against the wall until his giddy school-girl-smile was under control._  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
“/Please tell me you’re not calling about Heatwave./”  
  
Being told that in lieu of a greeting, or even a joke, had Cold snarling into the receiver. In part because he was annoyed that he was apparently that predictable. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“/You’re not fooling anyone, Cold,/” Jesse said. There was a faint whirring sound over the line like he was playing with an RC helicopter. Can’t take the Trickster out of the g-man, Cold supposed. “/I’ve heard it from Hartley. And Lisa. And Linda. And even Wally./”  
  
“Fine, whatever. What do you know?”  
  
“/In case the name dropping didn’t make it obvious, I’ve already been grilled for information. Really, you think they’d call me just to gossip?/” There was a brief pause. “/Okay, so all of them but Wally do, but still. Everything I know, they’ve already passed on to you. And don’t bother with Oracle, I know for a fact both Lisa and Wally already asked her and I also know for a fact she’s far less patient with repeatedly giving the same information./”  
  
Disappointed as to the lack of news, and not knowing what his next step now was, Cold lapsed into a petulant silence. Eventually Jesse sighed, the whirring turning off. “/Snart, have you thought how much easier things would be for everyone if you just admitted how you feel about Rory? Everyone that knows you two already figured it out./”  
  
“I don't-”  
  
“/Know what I’m talking about? C’mon, Snart. Pull the other one, it’s got an egg-grenade-laying rubber chicken on it./”  
  
“You don’t know anything about it,” Cold groused. There was barely any heat in it. Between Lisa and Piper and Linda, he’d gotten tired of trying to justify his concern.  
  
“/I know that I’ve been on the receiving end of your cold gun enough to know when you’re holding back. And I’ve worked with Mick for years. Plenty of time to notice the way you two look at each other. Also, keep in mind that Wally can run every single street in the state in under five seconds, he has absolutely accidentally run across you two getting it on in some dark alley. Multiple times. And you know he can’t keep a secret unless he knows at least one other person knows. And given that Hart’s such a good friend of mine-/”  
  
Not wanting to hear how far that particular game of telephone went, Cold hung up the phone.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_Mick was out of it by the time Cold saw him. Between Girder working him over, baby Trickster dosing him up with whatever random shit Jesse left in his gear and whatever illusions McCulloch threw at him, it wasn’t surprising that he was barely coherent. Cold cursed himself. He’d had heard the rumblings of something happening in the underground channels, something big that was rippling under the entire city. But, like an idiot who thought he was on top of things, Cold hadn’t paid it any mind. And as a result he hadn’t realized when Blacksmith did not take kindly to Mick rejecting her offer to join her version of the Rogues.  
  
While Cold had been helping Cyborg and Wally free Central from the Thinker, Piper had snuck into Blacksmith’s operations, found a half-dead Mick locked away and dragged him to Cold’s apartment. “Because,” he’d explained to Cold and Lisa, “if the Rogues really want to hurt Wally, they’ll target the helpless.” Meaning hospitals and those inside them.  
  
Piper had already gone to back Wally up as he faced off with Blacksmith’s Rogues by Van Buren Bridge. Cold and Lisa would be joining them once Lisa finished making sure their gear was in order.  
  
Cold… Cold didn’t want to leave Mick’s side.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said, hand gentle over the bruises darkening Mick’s face. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve listened, checked things out.” Something was bubbling up in Cold’s throat, something important, something he’d never be able to take back once he said it. “Just rest up,” he said tightly. “I gotta go beat in the heads of some idiots thinking they could take over my city. But I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t be alone for long.”  
  
Mick’s eyelids fluttered, lips parting to take in a deep breath before saying softly, “Goldface…”  
  
Cold leaned in close. “What?”  
  
“Goldface,” each word sounded like it took effort to say. “He’s… unions…” Mick took in a deep breath. As deep as he could with his ribs in the state they were in anyway. “Was digging dirt on Blacksmith for him. Found out her time table ‘fore I got the ultimatum.”  
  
“Heh. I get it.” Keystone had always been a working class town and while the busters would come and go, the unions never really went away. Because Keystone always protected its own and it seemed like Goldface was making sure the unions would be ready to protect its city. Even against meta-powered criminals. Good thing they had meta-powered heroes on their side.  
  
There was a reason he loved this city.  
  
“You know,” Mick said, voice almost dreamy, “I put this costume on for you.”  
  
The non-sequitur made Cold pause. “What?”  
  
“This… thing.” Mick waved a hand at himself. “All of it. Was because of you.”  
  
He didn’t know what to make of it. Was it like that thing people said, that superheroes created villains just by existing? “Why?”  
  
“Wanted to work with you. Back when you were still a criminal.” He reached out and laced his fingers with Cold’s and Cold couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “I read about what you did, what your gun could do and I thought… I could do something like that. Something similar but different. Something,” he licked his lips, the medication obviously kicking in hard, “useful. ‘N then you’d keep me around…” Mick’s eyes fell closed, words trailing off to sleep.  
  
Cold stared down at him for a long moment before lifting their joined hands, kissing Mick’s knuckles softly. “Yeah. I’ll keep you around. You don’t have to worry about that.”_  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Cold came back from the ice rink- he hated running with a passion but give him some ice and blades and he could go for miles -only to be forcefully manhandled into the house. “Hey- what the hell?”  
  
“ _Ugh_! I am sick and tired of you moping!” Lisa cried, pushing her brother from one room to another. “Just go get him already! And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve been driving everyone nuts! Go to Hawaii, find Mick, apologize for whatever you did and bring him back!”  
  
Cold dug his heels in but Lisa was both strong and determined. “What makes you think  _I_  did something wrong?”  
  
“Because between the two of you, you’re the one most likely to put your foot in your mouth!”  
  
While that was probably true, that didn’t mean Cold couldn’t take insult from it. “Lise-”  
  
“ _Seven weeks_ , Lenny,” she said, expression and tone brokering no interruption. “Don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t love him. Lie all you want to Piper or Linda or whoever, but don’t you dare with  _me_. Not about this. Not now.”  
  
Cold’s mouth moved soundlessly, trying to form up some kind of defense without making Lisa explode at him. She stopped and turned him around, her eyes soft and sympathetic in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. “Lenny, everything Dad ever told us was bullshit. He’s a hateful, hurtful little man who could only be happy pushing around those smaller than him.” She ran her hand over Cold’s face, cupping his tense jaw. “But you took all his crap and still managed to make something of your life. And I know it’s not easy- even now it’s still not easy to forget everything he’s said to us, but that voice in your head right now, the one that’s telling you not to go after Mick, that you’d be better off just forgetting how you feel about him, that’s not you. That’s Dad. And like hell am I gonna let you listen to him.”  
  
Cold laughed, chest feeling a little tight. “You, uh,” he cleared his throat, “you think Mick’ll come back?”  
  
She smiled brightly, looking every bit as golden as her name said. “He will for you.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_Cold got back to his apartment exhausted, sore and with a migraine the size and shape of Grodd’s ugly mug. He stopped short in the doorway; Mick was lounging on the sofa in one of Cold’s t-shirts and sweats, flipping through a newspaper. Normally what would be enough for Cold to forget about his bad mood to focus on something a little more interesting except that, on the stand right below the wall-mounted tv, was a fucking jewel encrusted tiara, sitting on a museum-grade cushion.  
  
“Hey, Lenny,” Mick called out, barely looking up. “How was Gorilla City?”  
  
“What. The fuck.”  
  
“That bad?”  
  
“No. _ What _,” Cold repeated, jabbing a finger in the tiara’s direction, “_ the fuck _. Why did you bring that into my house?”  
  
Mick looked over at the tiara, then back at Cold like it should be self-explanatory. “Hit a couple snags on my heist and I needed to lay low for a bit.”  
  
“So you brought this shit to me?”  
  
Mick sat up, a scowl beginning to work its way onto his face. “Never bothered you before.”  
  
“The hell it didn’t! You know I hate when you take advantage of the fact you know when I’m not around!” It wasn’t a new argument, just like Mick hiding out in Cold’s place whenever the heat was on wasn’t new. Still aggravated the hell out of Cold because he was trying to keep some sort of distance between their personal and professional lives, given how they were on different sides professionally speaking. This time, though, Cold was just _ tired _. He didn’t want to deal with bullshit but here was Mick, dumping it in the middle of his goddamn living room.  
  
“You told me I could come by whenever I needed to, even if you weren’t here.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean use my place to stash your stolen goods!”  
  
Mick bristled and stood. “Do you really think it makes things any better if you don’t have to see it? Like it makes what I do any more legal if you don’t know about it?”  
  
“Don’t start that shit up again,” Cold said, pulling off his gloves and throwing them in the direction of a table. He retreated toward his bathroom but Mick was right there, face dark.  
  
“So now the discussion _ you _started is my fault, too? Well, surprise, Snart! I’m a thief! I do illegal shit all the time! None of that changed just because you get to stick your dick in my ass sometimes!”  
  
“What about you? Did you magically forget I’m a cape? I got the good grace to look the other way on occasion but that don’t mean you can walk all over me! The least you can do is not drag me into your shit!”  
  
Mick got real red in the face and Cold knew he’d just jabbed deep into one of Mick’s issues but, at that moment, he really didn’t care. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll leave you alone since I’m just dragging you down.”  
  
If he were a smarter man, Cold would have apologized. Were he as cold as his moniker suggested, he would have just let Mick go. Instead, when Mick picked up the tiara, Cold said, “Drop it, Rory.”  
  
Mick froze and when he turned his shoulders broadened, doing a very good job of appearing bigger than he was. “You really gonna do this, Snart?”  
  
Cold’s hand didn’t go to his gun still holstered at his thigh but the way he stood made it obvious that that was a conscious decision. “You’re not going anywhere with that thing.”  
  
Mick snarled and for a brief, heart clenching moment, Cold was certain Mick was going to test him on that. Instead, Mick half turned and threw the tiara out the open window. Cold watched it sail out, stunned, and Mick stalked to the door, roughly shouldering him aside. “Go get it, _ hero _.”_  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
When he materialized in Cadmus, Cold was glad to find the people there to meet him were human. At least to appearances. He didn’t know much about the place asides from its love of genetic experimentation but Cold had met a couple of what they called DNAliens and, call him a speciest, they kind of freaked him out.  
  
Harper was there to give him a curt nod and, “Captain Cold.”  
  
Cold bit back a sneer. “Guardian.”  
  
He’d told Harper to keep him updated on Mick’s activities under the guise of trying to figure out his plan. Ultimately all that happened was it proved what a damn masochist Cold was, hearing about how Mick was apparently making a life for himself half a hemisphere away. Mick only showed up in costume when Superboy was out with his team, Harper was certain Mick had managed to befriend the Kid under a civilian guise. Considering he hadn’t been created with an identity to keep secret, this didn’t surprise Cold. Superboy wasn’t stupid but he had all the awareness of any other teenager: if it didn’t personally affect him and wasn’t pointed out to him, he wasn’t aware of it.  
  
But the thing that got Cold the most was how Mick had been acting around Harper. Bantering. Puns. Letting Harper get in close when his heat gun worked best at a midrange. On the occasions Mick had been forced to abandon his objective, he still went off with a grin and a promise of seeing Harper again soon.  
  
He was  _flirting_. He was being a goddamn tease and the knowledge it was being wasted on Harper who hadn’t even noticed drove Cold  _mad_.  
  
Not Harper's fault, Cold told himself. As if he normally listened to his own logic. Not his fault. Though Cold couldn’t help noticing the way Harper was gradually becoming more fidgety. Like there was something he was trying to edge toward as he caught Cold up on recent happenings.  
  
Never one to beat around the bush, Cold snapped out, “What?”  
  
That seemed to startle Harper and, it was a little difficult to see due to the helmet, but Cold thought he was turning slightly red. “Ah, sorry. I was going to ask, it’s probably just misinterpretation on my part-”  
  
“Just say it.”  
  
“Does, uh, is Heatwave normally very… flirty? With you?”  
  
Cold sucked in a breath and willed his fist to stay at his side. It wasn’t Harper’s fault, he told himself. He didn’t know and it sounded like it was on Mick’s part only.  _For now_. He caught a growl in his throat and, when he thought he could talk without biting Harper’s head off, he said, “No point in wasting time. Where is he?”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
_He’d barely materialized on the teleporter pad when someone shouted, “_ Len _!” and suddenly arms were crushing the breath out of him.  
  
“You’re alright.” It took a moment for Cold’s exhausted brain to place the wavering voice as Mick’s. “Thank God, I thought… I didn’t know what to think.” He sniffed loudly and muffled quietly into Cold’s shoulder, “Fuck.”  
  
It took some doing to untangle his arms from Mick’s hold but Cold manage to cup Mick’s face, pulling him back just enough to look at him, relief sinking in bone deep. “Are _ you _okay?”  
  
Mick laughed, tears in his eyes and gripping Cold like he might disappear. “You hero types are the ones that drop like flies during these kinds of things.” He went quiet again, pushing back Cold’s hood so he could rub soothingly at the base of his neck and Cold was so tired, emotionally and physically, that he was tempted to fall asleep just from that. “There was a list. I didn’t find your name on it but… I couldn’t be sure. Everything had gone crazy. It was like… like when Scudder died.”  
  
Cold’s grip on Mick tightened. “I heard you were in that tangle in Metropolis.” Cold closed his eyes, throat knotting. The thought that he could have lost Mick- and Lisa -without even knowing about it… it made something in Cold’s chest tighten painfully.  
  
“The two of us and Hart were helping evacuate civvies. We kept away from the worst of the fighting.” Cold jerked back to find Lisa, just as dirty and worn as Mick, lounging nearby, her skates carelessly tossed aside for once. “We’re fine, too, by the way.” There was more relief than tease in her grin.  
  
“Oh, uh.” Cold’s eyes darted between his sister and Mick, whose face was again tucked against Cold’s neck.  
  
“Just kiss the man,” Lisa said. She leaned over to grab her skates. “Not like I haven’t walked in on you two doing worse.”  
  
Still, just for his own pride, Cold waited until she sauntered- more of a limp, really -out before he did just as she said. Mick sighed against his lips. “C’mon,” Cold told him. “Let’s go to bed. We can clean up in the morning.”_  
  
~*~*~  
  
Hawaii, he decided, was overrated. It was hot and humid and apparently rained at random times. He supposed it was pretty if you liked that sort of thing, but overall it looked like everywhere else. Trees and flowers and people and buildings, just like any other city, just with different detailing.  
  
Taking Harper’s advice, Cold headed off in the direction Kon had last been seen going. There was a path off the main road that looped around the side of Cadmus, leading to a small, rarely used clearing that had become overgrown with grass and brush. Kon liked going there sometimes, when he need some place quiet to get his thoughts in order. It wasn’t difficult to get to from any direction, Harper said, it just wasn’t popular with the locals.  
  
Cold- thankfully having the foresight to wear civvies -kept along the path, grumbling to himself because did there really have to be so much damn vegetation? Then he rounded a corner to find Kon lounging on his back a good six or so feet in the air and sitting on top of a worn picnic table, paint coming off it in curls, was Mick.  
  
Now Cold would deny to his dying day that he had anything resembling a romantic bone in his body but… it was so damn good just to  _see_  Mick again. He wore a light t-shirt, shorts and a ballcap, just chatting with Kon about whatever. But seeing that easy little grin on Mick’s lips, that spark of humor in his eyes, it made a tension knot that had been sitting unknowingly in Cold’s chest ease. He knew, then and there, he was going to bring Mick back somehow.  
  
“Kid,” Cold called out as he approached, “take a fly around.”  
  
Kon looked at him, thoroughly confused. “Cold? What are you doing here? And why should I listen to you?”  
  
Constantly challenging authority, Cold always liked that about Kon. “‘Cause he’s one of mine and I need to talk to him.”  
  
He pointed at Mick in confusion. “He’s- wait, what?”  
  
“Mick Rory. Heatwave.” He stopped a few feet from the bench, ignoring Mick’s glower. “He’s mine.”  
  
Kon’s expression ran the gamut of confused to betrayed to angrily ashamed of himself. “You said your name was  _Rory Calhoun_. Oh my  _god_. Guardian said you’ve been popping up while I wasn’t here and I  _still_  didn’t make that connection, I’m such an idiot.”  
  
“Kid, c’mon.” Mick reached over and patted Kon’s ankle, the only that was within reach. “No one’s expecting you to remember the real names of every single costumed criminal in the world."  
  
“Ugh, I need to go be embarrassed in private.” He peeked up at Cold between his fingers. “Don’t tell Rob.”  
  
Cold scoffed. “Like I’d voluntarily tell any of the Bats anything. Imp, on the other hand...”  
  
“ _No_ , don’t tell Impulse!  _Everyone_  will know about it, even the Lanterns on Oa!”  
  
Cold chuckled. “Relax, Kid. I just need to talk to Mick. Anything more than that, I don’t really care.”  
  
Kon narrowed his eyes at Cold, still not convinced until Mick said, “It's alright, Kon. Guess I’ve held it off long enough.”  
  
For a moment it looked like Kon was still going to argue but eventually he said, “Fine. But if he gives you any trouble, just call out my name. I’ll hear you.” Then, just before leaving, he gave Cold an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.  
  
Cold went over to the picnic table, climbing up to sit on the top with Mick, leaving ample space between them. They both stared off into the distance until Cold broke the silence first. “You’re pretty good with the Kid.”  
  
Mick just shrugged, that even expression never leaving his face. “He’s a good kid in kind of a shitty situation. It’s like the people he lives with a half babysitter, half his boss. He doesn’t really have anyone to talk to that’s not one of his friends. Can’t really get an adult’s perspective when the only adults you know are co-workers.”  
  
“So you came all the way over here to play therapist for Superboy?”  
  
Mick turned, slowly, to give Cold a hard look. “Is that really what you came here to talk about?”  
  
“Ah… no.” Cold turned his eyes back to the ground. The silence stretched brittle between them. “You’ve been gone a while.”  
  
Mick just made a flat noise.  
  
“It’s not the same without you around,” he tried. “I, uh, I missed you.”  
  
To his surprise, Mick sneered. “Don’t know why. Not like you don’t have options.”  
  
Thrown by the sudden venom, Cold pulled back a little. “What does that mean?”  
  
The silence that fell between them this time was vibrating and on the verge of snapping. This time Mick was the one that broke it. “You said you’d date Wonder Woman.”  
  
The words were so low, so petulantly muttered that Cold was certain he didn’t hear right. “What?”  
  
“You said in an interview,” Mick said louder, seething between his teeth, “that you’d date Wonder Woman.”  
  
“So?”  
  
Mick threw his hands in the air. “Right. Of course. What was I thinking. Why would you care about a side piece, right? Fuck me for having emotions.”  
  
“Wait, stop- what are you talking about?”  
  
“I’m talking about how this-  _us_  -means nothing to you!”  
  
“Who the hell said that?”  
  
“ _You said you’d date Wonder Woman_!”  
  
“ _Everyone_  has a thing for Wonder Woman. I know for a fact that  _you_  do, too!” Cold glared, leaning into Mick’s space. “You honestly gonna tell me that you wouldn’t jump at the chance if she asked you on a date.”  
  
“That… that’s not the point!”  
  
“I said her because she’s  _safe_! Everyone in the League is a little bit in love with her, no one would blame me or think it actually  _means_  something that I say that.” Cold scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not like I can tell the fucking press I’m involved with one of my damn Rogues, now can I?”  
  
Mick just looked away, lips folded together and jaw clenched tight. Cold reached over and palmed Mick’s shoulder and, when he didn’t flinch away, pulled him into a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were a side piece or that I don’t care about you. I wish… fuck, I wish things were easier. I wish you came to me instead of just running off.” His own words made Cold pause. “You usually handle this sort of stuff more maturely. Moreso than me, at least. Why’s this different?”  
  
Mick pulled away, just far enough that he could brace his elbows against his knees and forehead against his hands. “I’ve been thinking. About… what I do. The kind of person I am. And that maybe I could change that. Be something other than a crook with a flamethrower. Probably wouldn’t go as far as Piper did. Maybe more… Selena’s level. Going after people that deserve it, maybe helping the capes out when they need it. Not looking to be a hero but someone… someone you can actually tell people that you care about.”  
  
Cold’s breath caught in his throat, the hand he was rubbing over Mick’s back stilling. “Wait… you were… you were going to change alliance? For  _me_? Mick… I...”  
  
“I want to be with you,” he said quietly. “Flirting and fighting and quickies in alleys are fun but… I want more than that.” He looked up at Cold, brown eyes dark and vulnerable in a way Cold had rarely seen them before. “I want to be by your side.”  
  
Cold slide his hand down to grabbing Mick’s tightly. “Mick… I had no idea…” That would be an incredible jump to make, one that would take a lot of work and faith- and then that stupid interview happened. “Look- that interview, I was just saying what they wanted to hear. You know that’s how those are.”  
  
“I know but…” Mick swallowed hard, hands tightening around Cold’s. “I’m not used to being happy. It’s like… every time I am, something goes wrong. Usually it’s me, the fire taking control and I can’t stop it. So when I read what you said I just… I thought that that was it. The universe decided that I’d been happy with you long enough it decided to take you away.” He laughed, eyes a little wet. “It hurt so bad I didn’t want to think about it. I just… ran.”  
  
Cold surged forward, catching Mick’s lips in a harsh, searing kiss that left them both breathless. “You haven’t lost me yet,” he growled. “And I’ll fight like hell every time the universe tries to break us apart.” He stared into Mick’s eyes, intense and defiant. “But you gotta fight, too. I want to be with you. I want to be happy with you and I want to make you happy, but I can’t do it alone. Promise me. Next time you think the universe or fate or whatever is trying to take that away, you’ll fight just as hard.”  
  
Mick laughed, pulling Cold in for a bone crushing hug. “Yeah. Promise.” He breathed in deeply and Cold nuzzled against his cheek. “Take me home?”  
  
“Damn right I will. I gotta ask, though,” Cold pulled back a bit. “Why Hawaii?”  
  
Mick shrugged. “Different location, different climate, different culture. About as far as I could get from Kansas without leaving the country.”  
  
“So, uh,” he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t because you like Guardian or something?”  
  
“Eh,” Mick shrugged. “He’s alright. Definitely nice to look at but that’s about it.”  
  
“So the flirting thing…?”  
  
“Trying to distract myself from you.”  
  
Cold was oddly flattered. “Did it work?”  
  
“Nah. It was like flirting with a brick wall. Guy’s got a stick wedged too far up his ass for anything fun. Or maybe he just hates crooks that much.” Mick gave him a sly, seductive smile that ratcheted Cold’s heart up a notch. “I prefer someone that’ll give as good as they can get.”  
  
“Sounds like my kind of guy. You find someone like that, introduce me.”  
  
Mick let out a little laugh, letting Cold lean in close. “I’ll think about it.” Cold chuckled, head tilted until they were forehead to forehead.  
  
“Ugh. If I had parents I imagine this is what it would feel like watching them flirt.”  
  
They both pulled back to glare at Kon, floating above their heads on this stomach, hands folded under his chin and heels kicking idly. He couldn’t look any more comfortable than if he were on a bed.  
  
“You mind?” Cold growled.  
  
Kon just shot that disgruntled look right back at him. “What? I went for a fly around and it sounded like you two were wrapping up your conversation. Remember, this is  _my_  island, not yours. Series of islands. Whatever.”  
  
“Fine,” Mick said lightly, pushing himself off the picnic table. He reached back for Cold’s hand, tugging him along. “Since we’re not wanted, we may as well head back to Keystone.”  
  
Kon abruptly sat up, looking slightly alarmed. “It’s not that you’re not wanted. Well, Rory at least. Don’t really have strong feelings about Cold either way. But, y’know. You can come over. If you want.” Kon shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it. “I’m sure Guardian and Dubbilex will be okay with it if you let ‘em know first.”  
  
Mick’s lips quirked upward, undeniably charmed by the teen’s awkward offer. “Honestly, I think it’ll be easier on everyone if we do it the other way around.”  
  
“Mick-”  
  
“Really?” Kon blurted out. “You don’t mind?”  
  
“ _I_  mind!” Cold interrupted and Mick just looked at him coolly.  
  
“Good thing he won’t be visiting you, then.”  
  
Cold sighed dramatically. “ _Fine_. But none of your youth justice group gets to tag along. I get Imp zipping through every other day because he doesn’t want to deal with Flash or that old guy.”  
  
“You’re such a bleeding heart,” Mick teased fondly.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Kon finally touched down with a sigh and crossed arms. “I’m really annoyed that you guys are together, by the way. Now I owe Booster $20.”  
  
“Why would you bet with Booster?” Cold asked, somewhat aghast. “Did no one tell you never do that?”  
  
“But it seemed like such a random pick! How was I suppose to know?”  
  
“The more random it seems, the more likely he is to be right,” Cold drawled. “You know why everyone says never to bet with Booster? ‘Cause he’s a history major from the future.”  
  
“He’s  _what_? Oh, that little sneak!”  
  
Mick leaned in close to ask, “Are you telling me our relationship is important enough to be recorded and  _taught_  in  _history books_?”  
  
“Well, the alternative is that bimbo figured it out on his own.”  
  
He paused. “I’m not sure which is more unlikely.”  
  
“Same.” Cold- daringly for him -wrapped an arm around Mick’s waist and began ushering him back to the labs. “Well, lesson learned, Kid. But we got places to be, can’t hang around here all day.”  
  
“For the record, I’m glad you’re not dead anymore!” Mick called over his shoulder as Kon waved them on. He leaned over to Cold. “How is he not dead anymore?”  
  
“I don’t know, I’ve just stopped being surprised whenever a dead hero randomly shows up again.”


End file.
